Rapiers Are Grey, Specres Are Too
by BelowTheText
Summary: George and Lockwood face something more deadly than specters and wraiths... A girl on Valentine's day.


Rapiers are grey, Spectres are too.

_Introductions:_

"Say George, did I ever tell you about Sir Charles the Beheaded of Campbell? His murderer was the most polite man you would've ever met. That is until you found out the secret sauce for his famous 'meat patties'–"

["Only one too many times, Lockwood." George's voice echoed from the kitchen.]

["And I really prefer if you didn't right now." Lucy said, taking a sip from her cup.]

[A thump came from the direction of Lockwood's voice]

"Hmm… then would you like one of the more recent cases Lucy and I solved?"

["I've heard all of them, because I happened to be there with you, in case you've forgotten." George said, laying down the tray with a soft clatter of china on wood.]

"You weren't there for the case of the Weeping Bell! Oh that must've been one of my favorites! That had to be one of the more fun cases we've encountered. Isn't that right, Luce?"

[A groan came from beside the mic.]

["It would depend on your definition of _fun, _Lockwood. I swear I still hear this ringing in my ears even when I'm sure it's dead silent."]

[A low chuckle emitted from Lockwood's direction.]

"Maybe some other time, then."

[A crunch from the cookie came and a splutter of static from the mic]

["Well if we're not going to talk about that then what are we doing now?" George said through a mouth filled with half-chewed biscuits.]

["Lockwood wanted another go at the cassette."]

["Told you he'd be the first to record at the next chance he got." George said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Pay up,"]

[A grumbling was heard from the mic as Lucy handed over a crumpled bill]

["Well now that George's settled with his tea and biscuits, what now?"]

[Lockwood let out a low musing sound and finally a loud _Aha!_]

"I've got it! How about the time Lucy locked herself in the haunted house?"

* * *

Being trapped in a haunted house infested with ghosts was _not _how Lucy pictured her Valentine's eve to turn out.

Then again, she had no plans. Unless you counted packing salt bombs in front of cheesy re-runs of _Titanic_ while attacking a tub of Vanilla ice cream _plans, _then yes, she had plans.

The Problem itself wasn't much of well – a problem. The briefing George had called Lockwood and Lucy for before going out seemed to help as she knew exactly what the Source was and where to find it. Plus being in the presence of the dead spirits was hardly what you'd call 'a new encounter'.

No. It was the fact that she stood up rubbing her throbbing back side while spewing silent curses directed at Lockwood and George who she was sure stood on the other side of these wooden doors, smug looks on their faces.

Grumbling, Lucy shouldered the packs that they so conveniently forgot to grab before shoving her through the doors.

"Once I've sealed the Source, I'll give those two a good piece of my mind." With that Lucy began skulking around the house – though _sulking_ seemed to be more appropriate.

* * *

"I'm sure this'll impress Lucy, this time." Lockwood said with a laugh, his megawatt smile illuminating the cold and cloudy night.

A plump man in his mid-forties sat on the dewy ground gagged, hands and feet bound. He had a smudge of dirt across his forehead and a look that bordered on pure rage.

Lockwood and George ignored the man glowing an interesting shade of red and continued with their musings. George rolled his eyes and said under his breath, "That is if she wasn't impressed with the stunt you pulled yet."

"Hmm? Did you say something, George?" Lockwood looked to his chubby friend who crunched and was scribbling a couple of readings of the bones emitting a supernatural signal.

"Nothing. It seems like these bones were the remains of that poor lass. But look," Lockwood peered down to follow the direction of George's stubby finger pointed at. "it's not the Source of the ghost Mr. and Mrs. Sharp talked about."

Lockwood stood straight again, peering up at the window where they saw the harsh glow disappear minutes ago. Lockwood couldn't help but worry; that was the bedroom where they last tracked Lucy.

Crossing his arms and nodding his head, Lockwood began, "Yes, they did say it came from a small goblet they found underneath the bed. So this must be the Ms. Hamilton – or what's left of her, isn't that right Mr. Fort?"

The two boys turned to Mr. Fort who lay flat on the ground like a pudgy worm trying to wriggle away. Lockwood sighed and in a few short strides, grabbed the man by his ropes and had him sitting on his lovely lump of soil by the bones of Cindy Hamilton.

Mr. Fort glared at Lockwood while visibly inching away from the freezing bones.

A crunch of boots on dried leaves sent Lockwood and George into a defensive stance, their rapier points to the direction of the sound.

"Who goes there?" Lockwood asked after few silent minutes trickled by.

"It's just me you bunch of daft pansies." Lucy sighed, emerging onto their clearing holding a sack glowing with a silvery light.

George and Lockwood lowered their rapiers and greeted her with smiles and congratulations which she returned with scowls and glares that spelled definite death for Lockwood and George.

Lockwood smiled, feeling his muscles tense from Lucy's gaze. "Look," he gestured towards Mr. Fort sitting next to the pile of bones.

Lucy examined the bones and glanced at Mr. Fort like he was nothing but a speck of dirt at the bottom of her shoe. Uncomfortable seconds passed as she stood silently checking the contents of her pockets. Lockwood and George could feel tension building; every movement Lucy made seemed like she would pull her rapier on them any moment.

It must be said that Lockwood and George jumped a bit when Lucy turned to their direction. Grabbing the smallest duffel bag and stuffing her prize smoking silver light in, she said, "I'll be taking a cab home. Bring that _thing_ over to DEPRAC and let them handle _it._" Lockwood winced at the ice in her voice.

"Make sure you two lock up before you go to bed. Good night."

Lucy exited the direction she came from and disappeared under the over grown foliage of the Sharp residence.

After a few minutes in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened, Lockwood and George let out a breath they didn't know they held.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Lockwood," George said, plopping a healthy serving of eggs and bacon onto Lockwood's plate.

"That ghost possessed Lucy! We need to get her to a medium ASAP and exorcise it out of her!" George swung his piping turner, narrowly missing Lockwood's tea.

Lockwood sighed and grabbed his cup before George decided to try the frying pan next. "I know, I know. I was up all night too! Partly because your snoring was louder than usual."

George huffed indiginantly, "That's hardly _my_ fault! I snore louder when I worry about someone or some_thing _trying to kill me."

Lockwood sighed again and focused on downing the excellent breakfast George managed to cook up even in this time of crisis. Say what you must about George's sleeping habits but his eggs tasted much better with the thought of death occupying his head in the morning.

Lockwood turned the morning paper when a peculiar headline caught his eye.

"Good God! George," He suddenly stood up.

George whirled around, grabbing his rapier on one hand and a half-buttered toast in the other. "Where's Lucy?"

"No, genius! I'm talking about this." George narrowed his eyes at the fine print Lockwood's finger was pressing at.

"14th of February… Good Lord…." George whispered.

Lockwood nodded with the same gravity. "This must be it."

* * *

It was around noon by the time Mr. and Mrs. Sharp returned to 35 Portland Row to extend their gratitude of exterminating the ghost.

"Deryn and I are really thankful that you managed to fix our Problem." Mr. Sharp beamed, taking his wife's hand in his.

Mrs. Deryn Sharp leaned on her husband's shoulder and giggled, "Yes, you wouldn't believe how long it took Alek to fall asleep after his encounter with the ghost the other night. He held my arm so long I couldn't feel the blood circulating the next morning."

Rubbing the back of his head and the tip of his ears red from embarrassment, he said, "Aye, it's a relief not to feel a chill in the air like someone's always watching."

Lockwood smiled, happy to see the couple relaxed and at ease unlike the last time they were here. Their meeting nearly concluded with Lucy's head partially severed. Lucy ducked just in time narrowly avoiding Mr. Sharp swinging their lamp because he thought the girl was a ghost.

George hurried in with a hastily prepared pot of tea and biscuits.

"But Mr. Lockwood, we heard that the man who sold us the house was also the same man who killed Cindy Hamilton, is that true?" Mrs. Deryn asked.

Lockwood nodded, "Yes, we deduced that Mr. Fort was Cindy's murderer and was back to destroy her bones before he was arrested. Little did he know that the Source of the ghost was the goblet he used to poison her."

"I found an article on the relationship of the popular politician Mr. Grey Fort and a rich heiress Cindy Hamilton. Mr. Fort claimed that he had no idea that Cindy was in and was away on a business trip when she was murdered. Seemed like a solid alibi and of course the police couldn't do anything so the case has been under wraps for years. Until last night, that is." George added, happily rewarding himself with a biscuit.

"That's such a shame. And Cindy seemed to be really in love with Mr. Fort, too." Mrs. Deryn said sadly, gazing at the old black and white candid photo of the young couple.

* * *

As for Lucy Carlyle, it was nearly three o'clock when she finally decided to come down and face those two blockheads. (There was only so much a mini refrigerator could hold and a nice hot meal wasn't one of them.) But no matter how hard she tried to become angry again, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but sadness.

"And on Valentine's day too…" She sighed and took one final look at the goblet sitting on her nightstand, a sad echo wailing drifting faintly around her attic.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you… But he's gone now. He can't ever bother you again." She whispered and took the steps three at a time.

* * *

Down on the first floor, the kitchen was a flurry of chaos. Chocolates flew at maximum velocity and heart-shaped cutouts lay scattered across the table. Lockwood was busy trying to clean the kitchen up as best as he could which only resulted with George messing everything again trying to find the ingredients to his dishes.

Lockwood recalled the brief conversation he had with Mrs. Deryn Sharp before she left…

"Mr. Anthony," Mrs. Deryn Sharp began.

"Um I'd prefer if you call me Lockwood, ma'am." Lockwood smiled politely.

Mrs. Deryn simply returned his smile and continued, "I've also heard that you locked Lucy in the haunted house." Lockwood his back spring like a rigid board and suddenly Mrs. Deryn's kind smile looked dangerous and threatening.

Lockwood felt like he swallowed a snowball and he replied, "Yes, ma'am…"

Mrs. Deryn only shook her head, "Now, Anthony,"

Lockwood couldn't help but reply with a, "Yes, ma'am." Only it came out two octaves higher.

Lockwood braced himself for a scolding but she just smiled again and said, "you can't be rude to a girl on Valentine's day."

With that her husband took her by the hand and they bade their good-byes.

Lockwood felt a shiver run through his spine at the thought but he understood her words all too well. But just _where _did this lady get her information?

And like Jesus calming the raging tides, Lucy entered the kitchen and everything died down.

Lockwood turned to Lucy with a smile fully displayed. Even George went as far as to greet her 'good morning' until Lockwood stepped on his toe whispering to him that it was half past three. Instead he covered up with another megawatt smile and said, "Hullo, Lucy. You look wonderful."

Lucy did not – in fact – look wonderful. This very fact annoyed Lucy more than if he'd said that she looked like a bird landed on her head and made a nest. Instead of sitting down and having a nice cup of tea while enjoying the boys' uncomfortable silence like she'd originally planned, she plucked a chocolate from the table and made her way to the basement to practice some Winsex half-turns. And she left, taking the awkward air and the dead silence along with her.

"Well _that_ went according to plan." George said, emptying the rest of the chocolate box.

Lockwood watched the door Lucy exited through, half expecting her to pop back up to give them a good beating. "One might've thought that she'd've noticed what with the roses and hearts sprawled around the room.

George shrugged and went back to work. "It was your idea, Lockwood. And she doesn't seem to really care either way."

"Maybe I should talk to her." Lockwood said, already turning the handle of the door.

George jumped in front of him before he had the chance to step in. "How 'bout you let me handle this. And just finish folding the rest of those roses." George pointed at the mountains of paper and the half finished bouquet of origami roses.

Lockwood nodded and saluted to George, "Be brave, my good man."

"Go away, George. I really don't want to talk." Lucy yelled.

Swishing and sounds of metal clattering told George that Lucy was practicing her rapier play on poor Joe and Esmeralda. He could picture two very battered looking dummies that could very well be him and Lockwood next.

With a gulp he took a brave step forward and tried to speak before Lucy's rapier found its mark anywhere other than Joe.

"Why don't you join us at the kitchen? We made your favorite," George said, wisely stopping a few feet away from Lucy.

"Bread pudding!" But Lucy's glare only silenced him.

George sighed and continued, "Come on, Luce. I know that if it were Lockwood you would've agreed an hour ago."

"Or I would've impaled my rapier in his gut." She muttered.

George could only nod. "Geez, is this what happens to girls if they don't have a date on Valentine's?"

Lucy spun around with renewed anger. "Is that what you think this is about?! I nearly died sealing that Source while you two idiots waited outside!"

"Well, we did apprehend Cindy Hamilton's murderer and we _did _find her remains."

Lucy shoved her rapier back in its sheath and said something that sounded a lot like, "Unbelievable!"

George continued, "We knew that Cindy's ghost was a powerful one. She managed to knock Mr. Sharp just as the sun was coming up. And since that was just Mr. Sharp we identified that she had must've loathed men in general."

"And she had a good reason to," Lucy muttered.

George sighed. "Look what I'm trying to say is…" The plump boy took a deep breath and Lucy stood by, her hand resting on her rapier hilt

"It was all Lockwood's idea."

"Well that's rich coming from you, George. If I recall _you_ were the one who locked the door." Lockwood complained as he poked out from the door.

George scoffed, "I didn't plan on pushing her in."

Lockwood waved the comment away. The boy took three quick strides, grabbed Lucy by the hand and pulled her up the stairs.

Lucy protested, swearing like a sailor as she was half-dragged, half-pushed up the stairs.

The bright lights of the kitchen momentarily blinded Lucy but as her eyes adjusted, she stood wide-eyed at the display in front of her.

The boys really out did themselves this time.

Paper roses were arranged beautifully on porcelain vases. Three places were laid out with petals and heart cutouts sprayed across. The smell of real food reached Lucy's nose and she couldn't stop her stomach from trembling even if she wanted to.

Yet even with the extravagance of the setting and seeing something that seemed to appear only in movie, she couldn't help but laugh. This was just too much, especially for a couple of boys.

Lockwood and George stood there dumbfounded as the girl clutched her stomach almost doubling over with laughter.

"You idiots." She said fondly. "Thanks. I really mean that."

"Cindy Hamilton really did love Mr. Fort and she would've given everything to him –which was exactly what she did. Mr. Fort finally convinced her to change her will to his favor and when she went over to his home to tell him about the news, she didn't realize that she wouldn't be leaving." Lucy explained over her third serving of bread pudding.

"Now all her love and adoration for him turned into rage and agony." She said as if she were describing the day to her colleagues. "Men are really stupid, aren't they?"

Lockwood and George sat in their respective seats, trying to look anywhere but in her direction.

Finally, Lockwood got up and announced, "Well this was a lovely meal prepared by our fine cook, George Cubbins."

"Thank you, Lockwood."

"But Valentine's day really wouldn't be complete without a little music don't you think?"

Lockwood stepped over to one of the many hidden cupboards and brought out an old dusty case.

"It's been a while since I've had any practice so don't laugh." He warned.

Lucy realized why the shape looked so familiar. George peered at the instrument Lockwood started plucking at, "You never told us you play the violin!"

The boy played all four strings and when he was satisfied all strings seemed to be in tune, he brought the bottom of the violin to his chin.

Lockwood flashed a sly smile and said, "Enjoy it while it lasts, Cubbins. I'm absolutely horrid at it."

Lucy would beg to differ afterwards; he was really quite good. And they laughed and sang together as he played old familiar songs and even a few classical pieces that almost _– almost, _made Lucy cry.

All was well in 35 Portland Row. And though Lucy was not one for fancy chocolates and red roses, she would always be grateful for her two annoyingly sweet friends. (Just don't tell anyone she said so.)

* * *

**Author's Note**

**I hope this makes up for my loooongg absence! I am so sorry huhu but I've been too busy and I miss writing so much. But please enjoy this Valentine's special lol**


End file.
